


Do It Our Way

by FagurFiskur



Series: 30 day cheesy tropes challenge [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Minor Character Death, Screw Destiny, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-12
Updated: 2014-03-12
Packaged: 2018-01-15 09:52:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1300606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FagurFiskur/pseuds/FagurFiskur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean knew other people who had no marks. Most of them had had marks at some point, but they'd disappeared before they could find their soulmate. A few had met and fallen in love with their soulmate, only to lose them. But Dean was the only person he knew of who’d never had a mark at all.</p><p>It didn't exactly make dating easy. Sure, the dating pool was there, but most of the people in it considered Dean second best to someone they'd either loved and lost or never met at all. Meeting Cas had been something of a miracle.</p><p>Cas had had a name on his wrist for five short days when he was eight. For most people, this would be enough for them to view any relationship after that as settling. But Cas wasn't most people and he loved Dean the only way he knew how: fiercely and absolutely.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Do It Our Way

**Author's Note:**

> 30 day cheesy trope challenge: #9 - Matching soulmate marking
> 
>  
> 
> [The challenge](http://ghiraher.tumblr.com/post/37135733342/30-day-cheesy-tropes-challenge)
> 
>  
> 
> This is probably my most flawed story in this challenge so far but it's also my favorite. I might just rewrite it later, when I'm not feeling so pressed for time. Anyway, the whole soulmate thing always kind of bothered me, so I twisted this trope a little. That's not cheating, is it?

Dean could still remember perfectly the day Sam got his soulmate mark. He'd just turned five and Sammy was only a few months old. At first, the letters had been tiny, completely illegible on his chubby little wrist, but as Sam grew, so did the mark. When he turned two years old, you could just make out a name: _Jessica Moore_.

Sam had never gone out to look for her but he'd found her anyway, during his first week at Stanford. The two of them had hit it off immediately and Sam had later described it as finding the missing piece of himself. Dean had laughed and called him a girl, but he'd felt an odd, empty ache in his chest.

Twenty-nine years old and Dean still had no mark. Officially, he'd given up on the mark ever appearing. It was incredibly rare for soulmates to be born more than twenty years apart. It happened, but a much more likely explanation was that they were dead. Probably since before Dean was born.

Dean knew other people who had no marks. Most of them had had marks at some point, but they'd disappeared before they could find their soulmate. A few had met and fallen in love with their soulmate, only to lose them. But Dean was the only person he knew of who’d never had a mark at all.

It didn't exactly make dating easy. Sure, the dating pool was there, but most of the people in it considered Dean second best to someone they'd either loved and lost or never met at all. Meeting Cas had been something of a miracle.

Cas had had a name on his wrist for five short days when he was eight. For most people, this would be enough for them to view any relationship after that as settling. But Cas wasn't most people and he loved Dean the only way he knew how: fiercely and absolutely. Dean, in turn, didn’t turn tail and run when presented with commitment, the way he’d always done. He allowed himself to fall in love.

Even if some distant part of him felt hollow, every time he looked at his wrist and found it unmarked.

\---

"Is this Dean Winchester?"

Dean frowned into the receiver. He normally didn't answer calls from unknown numbers but something had compelled him to pick up the phone. "Yeah?"

"My name is Anna Milton," the woman on the other end said. "I know it's probably rude of me to ask, but do you have a soulmate mark?"

Yeah, he definitely should have let it ring. "Why?"

"Because if you don't, I have a letter for you." Anna continued, sounding hesitant, "At least, I'm pretty sure it's for you. Maybe it's best you come over so I can explain."

\---

Three days later, Dean was parked in front of Anna Milton's house. She lived at the other end of town, in the most sparsely populated part of Lawrence. The house itself was practically a mansion but it looked like it had seen better days.

Dean stepped out of the car, his stomach rolling nervously. He could pretty well guess the contents of the letter Anna had for him and he had no idea how to feel about it. He wasn't even sure he wanted to read it.

But it was too late to turn back now. Slowly, Dean walked up to the front door and rang the bell. Almost immediately, the door swung open.

Anna Milton was kind of hot but Dean could only notice that in an abstract way, too occupied with the letter. "You must be Dean."

"And you must be Anna." Dean smiled, aware that it was a far cry from his usual charming grin.

Anna stepped aside. "Please, come in."

The inside of the house wasn't much better than the outside. The furniture was shabby and haphazardly placed, like someone had started to rearrange it but given up in the middle of it.  The paint on the walls was chipping and the windows were so grimy, you could barely make out whether it was day or night outside.

"I know it's a little messy," Anna said self-consciously. "My grandmother lived here alone and she just passed away. We've been cleaning the place out but progress has been kind of slow. Everyone is so busy."

Dean nodded absentmindedly. He really didn't care about the state of the place. "You told me you had a letter for me?"

"Yes, I do."

Anna walked him into the kitchen. There was a box filled with yellowed papers on the counter and at the very top, an envelope addressed to Dean. It had been torn open.

"I opened it," Anna explained. "I figured whoever Dean Winchester was must be long dead but when I read it... just see for yourself."

Dean nodded and grabbed the envelope. His hand was shaking slightly as he pried it open and fished out the letter.

             

_June 17, 1942_

_Dear Mr. Winchester,_

_I write this letter to you, not knowing if you will ever read it. Still, as I am shipping out tomorrow, I felt it needed to be done._

_To the best of my knowledge, I have never borne the soulmate marking. I was content to wait and leave destiny to its course but it now seems I am running out of time. I am not such a fool to go marching to war, expecting to survive._

_A few days ago, I met with a mystic. She could not tell me the location of my soulmate, or even if they were dead or not yet alive, but she could give me a name: Dean Winchester. All my research yielded no positive results, so I leave it now with my brother, along with this letter. If you are to be found then he will find you, and hopefully give you some peace of mind. I will likely die soon, never knowing the fate of my soulmate. The least I can give you is that one certainty._

_All my love,_

                                _Michael Milton_

 

Dean read through the letter twice. Even so, he had a difficult time understanding what it was he was reading. It was like he was disconnected from the act, seeing the words without taking them in. Finally, he lowered his hand.

"He died in the Battle of Guadalcanal," Anna said quietly. "My grandfather - his brother - had a stroke some time after that. I guess he never got around to making sure you'd get the letter."

"Right." Dean cleared his throat.

"There's also this." Anna dug into the box on the counter, pulled out an old photograph and handed it to Dean.

It was a picture of a young man in a soldier's uniform with dark hair, carefully combed and parted, and a grim expression. "Is that-"

"Yeah, it is."

Dean swallowed. The photo had to have been taken around the time Michael wrote the letter. He looked to be about Dean's age. His left wrist, poking conspicuously from the sleeve of the uniform, was unmarked.

It was too surreal. Dean felt like he should be sadder. Here was near undeniable proof that his soulmate was dead, over thirty years before Dean ever had a chance at meeting him. He should be devastated, like John had been when Mary died.

... Only, John had actually known Mary. They'd been married, and in love. Dean had never and would never meet Michael. They would never have the chance to get to know each other or fall in love or get married or any of that shit. It made Dean a little melancholy to think of it, and he certainly felt bad for the poor bastard who probably died without ever getting laid, waiting for his soulmate to come waltzing into his life.

But Dean wasn't waiting for anyone. He'd stopped really hoping at twenty and at twenty-six, when he'd met Cas, he'd stopped wanting to. He glanced down at his own unmarked wrist and for the first time, it didn't make him feel hollow. It made him feel determined.

He handed the photo back to Anna. "Keep it."

"Are you sure?"

Dean nodded. "I appreciate you calling me, but I didn't know Michael. Keeping a photo of him seems kind of creepy."

"Uh, okay." Anna looked torn between amused and scandalized. "Do you want to keep the letter?"

He hadn't intended to. The only thing that caused him to pause was the sudden thought of Cas - he had no idea where Dean was or what he was doing. Weirdly, Dean almost felt like he was somehow being unfaithful. He needed to tell Cas about this. Needed to show him the letter.

"Yeah." Dean stuffed the letter in his pocket. "Thanks."

\---

"Are you sure about this, Dean?" 

Dean grinned. "Definitely."

The tattoo needle whirred to life. The artist, a hugely tall woman with shoulders like a quarterback and pastel pink hair, glared at Dean. “You’re gonna need to stay still, cowboy.”

“I’m right here,” Cas muttered into his shoulder, squeezing Dean’s right hand with both of his. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Dean swallowed, suddenly feeling overwhelmed. The needle pierced his skin but he barely noticed it. He turned Cas’ hand so he could see the fresh tattoo on his left wrist: _Dean Winchester,_ in simple black letters. There would be no mistaking it for an actual soulmate mark; the lettering was far too dark and neat.

Dean wouldn’t have it any other way.

**Author's Note:**

> "So screw destiny, right in the face. I say we take the fight to them, and do it our way."  
> —Dean Winchester


End file.
